


We Cross Our Bridges

by electriceell



Category: Miss Fisher's Murder Mysteries
Genre: Discussion of Rape, F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-09-13
Updated: 2015-09-13
Packaged: 2018-04-20 14:44:06
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,283
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4791176
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/electriceell/pseuds/electriceell
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>In a moment of intimacy Phryne breaks down and Jack can't figure out why.</p>
            </blockquote>





	We Cross Our Bridges

**Author's Note:**

> This is my first fic, ever, so please be gentle! I don't really know the ropes yet, but I was really bothered that the fandom doesn't really address Phryne's history of abuse. After pondering it, this little tidbit came to me. Please see the end notes for a little explanation. 
> 
> The title is from a quote in "Rosencratz and Guildenstern Are Dead"
> 
> "We cross our bridges as we come to them and burn them behind us, with nothing to show for our progress except a memory of the smell of smoke, and the presumption that once our eyes watered."

As he sunk into her, Jack couldn’t believe that he was finally allowed to do this, to touch, to kiss, to love and make love to Miss Fisher. It had always seemed like an impossibility, something just out of reach, something to dream about, but never to live. Everything around him seemed a little unreal and he was trying to absorb the beauty of Miss Fisher’s — Phryne’s incredible existance when he noticed the tears rolling down her cheeks. 

“My God, have I hurt you?” Jack stopped immediately, scared that, in his excitement, he hadn’t… seen to Miss Fisher’s needs properly.

“No Jack, it’s noth-” Phryne began but her assurance, already shaky with tears, was interrupted by a hysterical sob. 

Sure that something was terribly wrong, Jack moved away slightly from Miss Fisher, afraid that his touch or even his presence was what was upsetting her, but her breathing spiked and he didn’t know what he could do. Phryne wrapped herself into a ball facing away from him, murmuring something about, “all my fault” and, “nothing to do with you Jack.”

“Please, tell me what I’ve done. Do you want me to go?” Jack questioned.

Before moving forward to try to coax her out of herself, Jack noted that he had never seen Phryne look so small, so exposed. It was disconcerting, seeing this wonderful, headstrong woman reduced to this, by some unseen force.

Gently stroking her hair, Jack tried again. “Please tell me what’s wrong. Are you ill? Phyrne. I just want to help you.”

With that, Phryne uncurled herself slightly and took a deep breath, trying to quell the nausea and panic, as well as the subsequent shame that was rolling through her body. It had been ages since this had happened, many years and many lovers had passed, come and gone without consequence, and her immediate reaction was to throw him out and, tomorrow, when this was just a shameful memory, tell him she had fallen ill, that nothing really was wrong and that maybe they could try again another time. But this was Jack. Sweet, noble, devoted Jack. 

With another deep breath she uncurled herself further and prepared for a conversation she feared would drive Jack away. The thought of losing him made her reconsider telling him, but then she felt him rubbing soothing circles on her back and murmuring sweet nothings. She had to tell him. Addressing the curtains, the wall, or the sheets more than Jack himself, Phryne bit back another sob and began.

“It’s not your fault Jack. I- I don’t really know how to explain this. Mac assured me it was something psychological, something that could pass with time...”

She gulped for breath; hating the weakness she felt wracking her body. 

“It’s because of René…” she began.  
Jack felt himself tense at that name, but forced himself to relax knowing Phryne didn’t need to feel his anger for DuBois, didn’t need to know how glad he was the DuBois was dead, how much he wished he could have known her then and protected her. But no. Without every experience, horrible and wonderful, Phryne would not be the person she was today. Releasing his muscles he continued his slow circles on her back, trying to let her known how deeply her cared for her through the simple touch.

“Go on,” he softly urged.

“It’s nothing really. You know René was controlling and could get violent.” Her hand unconsciously found a scar he had inflicted with a cigarette butt. “Sometimes, in these controlling and violent outbursts he decided he wanted to… take me, carnally, no matter my feelings on this subject. In the name of love he took me brutally where and when he liked.”

Jack felt like he was going to be sick. Yes he knew René DuBois had been horrible to Phryne; tried to own her, control her. Maybe, had she been another young victim who needed him he would have seen it, but this was his Phryne Fisher. He never had imagined he had violated her like that. 

Swallowing another wave of shame, Phryne pressed on, “After René left me, it took me years to even enjoy the… sensual pleasures of life. While I am fortunate enough to have had many lovers who have helped me rediscover my own sensuality, I am prone to these burst of hysteria from time to time.”

Attempting to control her breathing, she rolled over to face Jack, prepared to see the disgust she’d seen the only other time she tried to divulge this information to someone. What she found there instead, the pure, unadulterated love, scared her more.

Phryne had turned to face Jack before he had time to school his face into a more neutral concern. Knowing what see had seen scared her, Jack took a chance.

Placing his hand lightly on her cheek he simply said, “I am sorry, Phryne. You deserve so much more.”

With that, tears began pouring down Phryne’s cheeks again. Afraid he had made things worse, Jack pulled his hands away, only to feel Phryne catch his wrist and pull it back against her face. 

Slowly, carefully, Phryne pressed her lips to Jack’s. He returned the kiss gently and began to pull away when he heard her sigh regretfully.

Pulling herself closer to him, Phryne wrapped her hand behind Jack’s neck, meeting his mouth with hers, this time with a little more passion.

Jack returned the kiss, but quickly extricated himself from her tightening grip. 

“Phryne, do you really think I am the kind of man, who, after learning such things about you, would take advantage of your emotional state?”

“Darling Jack. My sweet Jack. I appreciate your concerns, but when, in the time that you have known me, have you seen me make advances on or accept advances from anyone I did not want?”

“I suppose not, but…”

“And when have you known me not to make decisions for myself? If you are disgusted by the idea of being intimate with me, that is fine, you can leave, but don’t you dare claim you don’t want me because you are protecting me.”

With that, Jack delicately interlaced his fingers in Phryne’s hair, placing reverent kisses first on her eyelids, then her nose, across her jaw line ending on her lips. She responded immediately, relieved that Jack was still hers. That he still wanted her, despite what he now knew.

“I will always want you.”

With that their kiss deepened, Phryne’s hands exploring every square inch of Jack’s lovely body, while he kept his hands in her hair and on her face, still scared that she would become overwhelmed again. 

Sensing his concern, Phryne took one of his hands and brought it down to her hips as she rubbed against his growing erection.

“I won’t break Jack.”

Something in her eyes broke him. He was sad for her, his heart broke for her, he loved her, and he wanted her. Overwhelmed by it all he took face in his hands and kissed her deeply, allowing one hand to wander down to her hips, over her lovely derriere, which he caressed gently.

After they kissed for what felt like an eternity, Jack hovered over Phryne, looked her in the eye and asked, “Are you sure?”

Pressing lightly on his chest, she rolled him over and straddled his hips. 

“Yes. I’m sure, darling.”

With that she slowly lowered herself onto him. He moaned softly at the wonder of her and she sighed, already feeling her panic and shame from before melting away. They made love to each other, slowly, savoring the feel of skin on skin. Savoring the feeling of being safe, of being home.

**Author's Note:**

> As a survivor myself, I felt that this was a reasonable progression of events. This isn't to suggest that sex after that kind of discussion would be ok or safe for everyone. If you have any questions or want to discuss this you can find me on tumblr under the same name!
> 
>  
> 
> ps. (9/20/15)  
> I just want to say how touched I am by the positive response I have received. My past experiences with humans have left me worried and scared, but you lovely people are being to restore my faith


End file.
